


In Full Bloom

by dark_as_a_tomb



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, Bottom Alexander Hamilton, Bottom Marquis de Lafayette, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Human Disaster Alexander Hamilton, Laf's pronouns are he/him, Light Dom/sub, M/M, More tags to be added, Mutual Pining, Past Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens, Pining, Smut, Top Alexander Hamilton, Top Marquis de Lafayette, alex and eliza are best friends, alex is smitten, date in chapter 5, eliza is lowkey a matchmaker, french boi, lafayette does nails, lafayette is gorgeous, lafayette wears makeup, not really - Freeform, oops is that a spoiler?, slowish burn, theyre just buds now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:34:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25116244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dark_as_a_tomb/pseuds/dark_as_a_tomb
Summary: A fic where Alex goes with Eliza to get her nails done and leaves with bright green nails because the gorgeous manicurist told him the color suited his skin tone.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette, Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens
Comments: 16
Kudos: 149





	1. Chapter 1

“I don’t want to,” Alex said simply, scribbling down the last couple of ideas that came to him in sleep before he was so rudely interrupted. He always had his best ideas when he took naps, and today was no exception. _John Adams is an idiot,_ he wrote swiftly, knowing full well he’d probably forget why he wrote it down in a few hours.

“But Alex, please,” Eliza begged. Alex glanced up at her from his spot on the bed. He never minded that his roommates, John and Hercules, never locked the door of their shared apartment, but he was starting to think that maybe they should. “The rehearsal dinner is tomorrow night.”

“You say that like it’s my fault that you waited until the last minute for your little beauty charade,” Alex grunted, pulling his hair out of its haphazard bun. The cheap hair tie tugged at his locks and he winced.

Eliza huffed, putting her hands on her hips. “Alexander, please. I’ve been so busy with bridesmaids’ duties that I completely forgot.” Alex scanned her body, taking in her light blue sweater and skinny jeans. They looked good on her.

“Well, that’s what happens when you dedicate your entire life to the Ponzi scheme of wedding planning.”

“But _it’s my sister’s wedding_ ,” Eliza exaggerated. “Would you please just do this for me?”

“You know I’d do anything for you, Betsy, but a nail salon, though, really? Can’t you go alone?” Alex pouted, trying to give her his best puppy dog eyes, but she never fell for it.

“Nope,” Eliza grinned, grabbing his hand and dragging him out of bed.

And that’s how Alexander found himself walking the streets of Manhattan next to a very satisfied Schuyler sister. They entered a small shop with a colorful sign that read “ _Ongles Par Lafayette_ ”. A pride flag hung in the window right next to the French flag.

“Elizabeth!!” A very excited, heavily accented voice called from the inside of the shop. “Take a seat, _mon cher._ I’ll be there in a second, _oui_?”

“Of course,” Eliza grinned, already scanning the wall of different nail polish colors. Alex lingered back, chewing his bottom lip and feeling really out of place. The entire shop was covered with color, pride flags and other artistic drawings lining the walls. An entire wall was decorated with intricately drawn cherry blossoms. One wall was lined with chairs and tubs for pedicures while the other side had 4 little stations for manicures. The shop smelled like cherry blossoms and jasmine, with an underlying hint of barbicide that added to the sweetness of the air. Classical music played through speakers in the ceiling, not loud enough to be in the customers face, but just loud enough to be heard. Alex felt very out of place in his sweater and old jeans, his greasy hair up in a bun and knock off Converse.

Suddenly a man emerged from the back room and Alex very much wished he took the extra time to shower before going out with Eliza. The beauty was wiping his hands on a towel, smile already on his plush lips. His tightly curled hair was pulled back in a bun. The shirt he wore brought attention to his toned arms and suddenly Alex’s mouth felt very dry. God, his eyes were gorgeous too, bright and deep and big.

“Elizabeth, _mon amour_ , what can I do for you this fine morning?” The man asked and, thank god he did because Alex was beginning to think he was a figment of his imagination that his blue balls created to taunt him. He had a heavy French accent, his lips forming each word with delicate practice. Alex wondered what else those lips did.

Eliza smiled softly at him like he was an old friend, but Alex couldn’t tear his gaze away. “Angelica is getting married tomorrow, and I’m a bridesmaid, so I was thinking of getting acrylics.”

“Oh congratulations! How is your beautiful sister?” the man grinned, and fuck, Alex’s brain short-circuited, he had dimples. “Do you have a picture of your dress? I can match the color, _non_?” The man came closer, and Alex stepped out of his way so he could look at the wall of color with Eliza. Alex bit his bottom lip. The man was taller than him, by quite a lot. His back muscles rippled as he reached for the different colors. He smelled faintly of Earl Grey tea and barbicide. Once a color selected, a peach tone that the gorgeous French stranger insisted would bring out Eliza’s “beautiful blue eyes _, oui_?” the man finally seemed to acknowledge Alex’s presence.

“Oh, and who might your friend be, _mon ami_?” Eliza chuckled.

“This is Alex. I dragged him along this time since Angelica’s busy. Alex, this is Laf. He owns the place.”

‘Laf’ eyed Alex, a small smile playing on his lips. Alex felt his knees go weak under that intense gaze. Laf hummed under his breath. “Alexander, I am _Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de La Fayette,_ but you may call me Lafayette, or Laf,” he finished with a wink.

Alex felt his jaw go slack, his eyes trained on Lafayette’s mouth as he formed the French gibberish that apparently was his name. “Uh huh,” he nodded shakily, realizing that the way Laf was looking at him was in way of a question. “I’m Alex. J-just Alex.”

Lafayette laughed, a bright, bawdy sound that Alex wanted to hear for the rest of his life. “Well, ‘just Alex’ then, _oui_?” With that, he collected Eliza in his arms and swept her away to a manicure station, chatting with her fluidly between French and English.

Alex followed dumbly, ignoring Eliza’s look when she muttered, “close your mouth, damn.” Alex sat in a chair next to Eliza, eyes trained on Lafayette the entire time. He spoke happily, a childlike wonder behind all of his words. His eyes were bright, even behind the thick-framed glasses he put on so that he could see Eliza’s nails closer. Eliza was patient with him when he forgot English words and stuttered, blushing deeply.

“Alex actually speaks French,” she said while Lafayette buffed her acrylics.

The man lit up, eyes bright and happy when they fixed on Alex. “Tu parle Francais?” He grinned, eyes crinkling by the corner.

Alex’s eyes widened, brain stuttering again before it finally caught up to him. “Oui, oui, I-uh- I do. Spanish too. English is my third language. My mom only spoke Spanish and French, so I had to learn English to help her translate when we were out with people before she….she died,” he said quickly, tapering out on the end.

Eliza stared at him, eyes wide in disbelief.

Alex left his mouth hanging out, his subconscious hitting him repeatedly with a baseball bat for word- vomiting all the information that definitely was not asked of him.

Lafayette just frowned, tilting his head to the side in a way that definitely should not be so endearing. “I am sorry to hear about _ta mere, mon petite lion_. However, I am happy _de converser avec vous dans ma langue maternelle.”_

Alex quickly nodded his head. “Y-yeah, moi aussi.” He shut his lips tight to avoid any other unnecessarily deep backstory to rattle out of his lips.

 _“Quel colour_ , _mon ami_?” Lafayette fixed his gaze on Alex over his glasses as he finished up Eliza’s pinkie finger.

Alex’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, I don’t- I’m not – I-“

“ _Car_ I have the perfect color _pour vous_ ,” Lafayette interrupted, smiling brightly.

Eliza grinned, amusement lighting up her eyes. “Yes, Alex, definitely. I’ll pay for you.”

“No, no, I don’t-“ Alex cut himself off as Lafayette stood up, sashaying to the wall of color.

“This color will look _magnifique_ with your skin tone, _mon Coeur,_ ” Laf grinned, returning to them with a little bottle full of the brightest goddamn green Alex had ever seen. He started to shake his head until he caught Lafayette’s gaze, his eyes bright and happy and full of amusement.

“I mean…maybe, just…” he bit his bottom lip. “I don’t want like…the long ones.”

Lafayette made a small happy noise that sounded a lot like a chirp and Alex felt his heart stutter. “ _Oui, oui_ , just a manicure, _mon am_ i!” Alex shrugged, letting Eliza manipulate him until they switched spots so Lafayette could work on his nails.

Up close, Alex was able to see so much more of him. His beard was shaved perfectly, eyebrows thick and full. And his eyelashes – was he wearing mascara? Alex let himself indulge, drinking up the heat from the tall Frenchman’s body being so close to his.

“Where is our dear Angelica getting married?” Laf asked, clearly asking Eliza.

“The Plaza,” Eliza grinned. Laf hummed his acknowledgement, nodding his head in what must be approval. “Did I show you the pictures of her engagement? When John and her visited D.C. for the cherry blossom festival?”

At this, Lafayette lit up, eyes widening with so much excitement that he had to stop what he was doing. _“Fleurs de cerisier_! I love! I love, I love! I always want to see!”

Alex flushed from the Frenchman’s excitement, his giddy voice and grin. The way he practically jumped the table to look at the pictures Eliza was showing had Alex lighting up with fondness. He vowed that he would take this beautiful man to see the cherry blossoms.

After winding down and returning to his seat with a blush on his cheek, Lafayette turned his attention back to Alex. “Where are you from?”

Alex blinked. “Um…Nevis. But I moved to New York when I was 12.”

Lafayette hummed. “I am from _Paris_. Have you ever been?” At a shake of Alex’s head, Lafayette launched into full detail, switching back and forth from French to English and back again. By the time Alex’s nails were fully painted, he probably could’ve recounted every street in Paris and what was on it.

Eliza cackled as they stumbled out of the shop, linking their arms together. “My God, Alex!” She squealed, laughing. “What the hell was that?”

Alex flushed red, eyes downcast. “You didn’t tell me that he…that he…”

“…looks like that?” Eliza supplied, still giggling.

“Yes!” Alex stuttered out, flustered. “I will never forgive you!” But at least his nails looked good.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the italics will be their conversations in french!

If anyone pointed out that Alex found himself in front of _Ongles Par Lafayette_ 10 days later, he would vehemently deny it. He had scratched that bright green off his nails shortly after Angelica’s wedding – a habit that he found himself committing to instead of his normal nail-biting. 

  
Of course his roommates had a field day when they saw his nails. Hercules examined them closely before nodding his head in approval and commenting on how the color really did suit his skin-tone. John laughed until his face was red (given his face was already red because of wearing a stuffy tux under the Manhattan sun). His only comment was: “Jefferson’s gonna have a field-day with this!”

  
To which he was correct. On Monday, Jefferson stopped by Alex’s office to annoy him. He burst out laughing when he saw Alex’s nails, two of them already scraped off. “Oh my God, Hamilton,” he chuckled, wiping his eyes. “I mean I knew you were gay, but I didn’t take you as a crossdresser.” Alex had rolled his eyes and kicked him out.

  
On a scorching Wednesday night after work, Alex wandered the streets (definitely not planning on going to the salon). If he wore his freshly washed hair down and wore his best t-shirt, then that was all a coincidence. 

  
A little bell above the door notified his presence. Alex loitered nervously by the front desk, biting his nails. He quickly sought-out the French man, but he didn’t have to look long. Lafayette was talking to an older woman as he gave her a pedicure, humming along to her life-story. He wore a tight blue t-shirt, the fabric stretching obscenely around his muscular back and arms as he hunched forward to paint the lady’s nails.

  
Alex felt his knees go weak. _He probably doesn’t even remember me, fu-_

  
“ _Mon petite lion!_ ” Lafayette hollered, waving his hand when he saw Alex, his face lighting up. “What are you in for, _mon ami?_ ” 

  
Alex blushed deeply, looking down. “Um…” what was he in for, indeed? “Uh…well, nails?” he finished dumbly, holding up his hand. 

  
Lafayette laughed, a deep, joyous sound. “Pick a color, _mon Coeur,_ I am almost done.”

  
Alex stammered out an agreement, biting his bottom lip. He tucked his hair behind his ear and turned to the wall of colors. They were all so bright and overwhelming. He stared at random colors, waiting for Laf to finish because truly, he only wanted Laf to pick the color. He didn’t even really want to get his nails done, but the excitement and charged positive energy around Laf was contagious and infectious. He wanted to be infected. 

  
He stubbornly gazed at the wall, pretending to look for a color while Laf finished up with the lady and sent her out. Once the door closed, Alex was distinctly aware that they were the only two left in the room. 

  
“So, _mon ami,_ you are back!” Lafayette grinned, scampering over to him. He wrapped his arms around Alex’s shoulders, pulling him to his chest. Alex stared at Laf’s chest with wide eyes – since he was eye-level with the man’s bodypart. He went warm in Laf’s arms. He smelled like jasmine today instead of Earl Grey Tea, but that underlying sweetness of buttered bread and the acidic barbicide still stuck out as an odd combination to Alex. An odd good combination. 

  
“You have not chosen color, little Alex,” Lafayette noted, pulling away from him. Alex immediately missed his warmth and was too thrown off to comment on the ‘little’ comment. He was little compared to Lafayette and, for once, he didn’t mind. 

  
He eventually realized that what Laf said warranted an answer, so he found himself stuttering, “Oh, well, y-yeah, I don’t…I’m not used to this.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his palm, flushing red.

  
Lafayette grinned, his white teeth flashing. “Then I can choose color for you, _non_? Go sit at station 1,” he patted Alex’s hip to get him out of the way. Alex blushed deeper; his skin tingly from Laf’s touch. He practically ran to the manicure station. 

  
Lafayette quickly picked out a color from the bottom rack, giving Alex a very nice few from where he sat. He returned to the chair opposite Alex, showing him a little bottle with a pearly white color in it. “ _Oui_? Last time, we did, uh, bright, so we should go neutral this time?” 

  
Alex nodded frantically, biting his bottom lip. He watched Laf’s hands as he removed the half scratched off polish from his fingers. “You have anxious, _non_?” Lafayette asked conversationally.

  
“W-what?” Alex stuttered, eyes going wide.

  
Lafayette repeated his question and went on to explain. “When anxious, you pick at nails. Scratch them.”

  
“ _Oui, oui,_ ” Alex nodded in understanding, biting his bottom lip. He switched to French, knowing it would probably be easier for Lafayette to converse. “ _Yeah, I’ve been on medication for a while, but anxiety comes with the territory.”_

  
 _“What do you mean_?” Lafayette asked quietly, not unkind. He moved on to Alex’s cuticles.

  
 _“Being a bisexual immigrant, English as a third language, the Secretary of the Treasury for New York…_ ” Alex trailed off, eyes widening when he realized just how much he’d given away, again.

  
Lafayette hummed in understanding. “ _You work for the government?”_ At Alex’s nod, he grinned a wicked grin. “ _Maybe you could put in a good word for me down at the immigration office. I’ve called and called and gotten nothing_ ,” he joked, eyes lighting up. 

  
Alex frowned, furrowing his eyebrows. _“I’d be happy to help. I’ll try my best.”_

  
Lafayette grinned victoriously. _“Thank you so so much! You’re so nice – I was joking_.” Alex stuttered out an apology, blushing furiously. After a few moments of silence while Lafayette buffed his nails, the Frenchman spoke up again. “ _I am also an outsider. Everybody knew I was gay, I mean, it is kind of obvious,” he chuckled. “But when I realized and later on told my grandmother, she tried to be supportive. I can tell she did, but we never talked about it – never acknowledged it. Whenever I brought a boy to meet her, she would pretend that he was my friend. She would never say an unkind word, but every time she looked at me, I could see the pain in her eyes. I couldn’t stand to disappoint her, so I moved to America.”_

  
Alex frowned, watching Laf’s sad eyes as he told his story. He didn’t like seeing the man in pain. “ _Where did you grow up?_ ” he asked softly.

  
“ _Paris_ ,” Laf smiled gently, recalling the memories. _“We had a beautiful estate that I inherited from my parents, but since I was too young when they died, my grandmother was in charge. Until I turned 18, then all the power fell to me. Do you know what a marquis is, mon petite lion_?” When Alex shook his head, Lafayette continued. _“Ah, well, It’s a social rank above lord, but below duke.”_

  
Alex frowned, recalling ‘Marquis’ is Lafayette’s jumbled up name. “ _Are you a marquis_?’

  
“ _Oui, oui,_ ” Lafayette hummed. He shook the small bottle before starting to apply the color to Alex’s nails.

  
Alex bit his bottom lip, trying to think of something to say to get Lafayette to ramble again – it was cute. _“What’s your favorite color?_ ” He blurted out and immediately wanted to hit his head against the table and disappear. 

  
Lafayette absolutely lit up, eyes going wide in excitement. That same excitement from when Eliza showed him the pictures of the cherry blossoms. “Oh, I love all color! Rainbow, love rainbow.”

  
Alex chuckled. “Rainbow isn’t a color, Laf. Its like 7 colors.” 

  
“But it is so pretty, non? How can you not love?” Lafayette grinned, his dimples popping.

  
Alex laughed softly, but let it go, deciding not to fight with the fiery man. Rainbow is not a color. “So you like cherry blossoms?”

  
Lafayette lit up again, gasping and nearly coming out of his seat. “Love, love love! Oh, I dream of a…a…” he bit his bottom. “ _proposition de marriage_ with cherry blossom! In D.C. Gorgeous, gorgeous, love. So romantic.” Alex let him babble, his language flicking between French and English in excitement, eyes wide. “I come to America hoping to see cherry blossoms but have not seen.”

  
“You haven’t gone?” Alex gasped, eyeing Lafayette in his excitement. Lafayette shook his head sadly, finishing up Alex’s nails. 

  
“Come, I will get you checked out,” Laf hummed, standing up and heading towards the front desk.

  
Alex followed after him like a lost puppy, his mind racing a mile a minute. _‘really, just ask him out, just do it. What have you got to lose? Ask him for a drink, ask for his number, ask if he has a boyfriend, say something smooth, tell him you’ll take him to see the cherry blossoms next spring, do something’._

  
In the end, Alex just stuttered his way through the payment and stumbled out of the shop. He walked a few steps in a haze before stopping to lean his forehead against the brick wall, cursing himself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it is heating up in this piece -- thank you for all the support and love i've gotten on this piece! i honestly didnt expect anything and ive gotten so many comments and love so thank you!
> 
> also i got my wisdom teeth out last friday and i'm still on pain meds so apologize for any errors

After his less than stellar attempt at asking Lafayette out, Alex found himself really needing a drink. Thankfully, Eliza was always down and she quickly rounded up the gang and they headed to the normal club. For a Wednesday night, it was pretty chill. Just a few spattering of friends, some girls getting over a heartbreak and some guys looking for someone to take home. Hercules and John were two beers deep by the time Alex got there and Eliza was sipping a fruity drink, watching the two men bicker about everything under the sun. Alex slid into the booth next to Eliza after ordering a beer and dropped his head on the table.

“This is all your fault, you wench,” he groaned.

Eliza gasped in faux surprise, placing her hand on her chest. “Oh, how you wound me, Alexander.”

"Aww, is our tomcat having relationship problems?" John cooed, throwing a straw wrapper at Alex. Alex scowled at him. 

He sighed. "It's frustrating. It's like my brain is having a seizure whenever he's around."

"I mean normally you can charm the pants off of anyone. You got a married woman to sleep with you when we were dating," Eliza pointed out.

Alex side-eyed her. "I thought we were over that?"

Eliza nodded. "We are. It's just weird seeing you so...flustered around someone you're attracted to."

John just laughed, downing his second beer. “What happened, Lexi?”

“Eliza introduced me to this man, like God – he’s a whole man. He’s tall and dark and gorgeous and so so sweet and I’m in love with him,” Alex overexaggerated.

Eliza giggled, picking up Alex’s wrist. “I take it you went to go see Laf today.”

“Laf? Is he the nail dude?” Hercules asked, tilting his head.

John shoved his side. “God, you’re so straight, it’s actually breaking my heart. Why do we allow you around us?”

“Because you love me?”

“Eh.”

Alex sighed. “Yes, he’s the nail dude. And I’m whipped and fuck, what do I do? I just cant talk around him, I clam up and get weird and I spill too much about my personal life. He probably thinks I’m so weird.”

John giggled, throwing a peanut shell at Alex. “Wow, you being weird? Never would’ve guessed. But normally you never shut up, so you’re quiet around this guy?”

“Yes, it’s like my brain is paralyzed,” Alex rolled his eyes.

“Well, speaking of…” Eliza bit her bottom lip, already looking guiltily at Alex. “I invited him tonight.” At Alex’s look of pure disbelief, she continued quickly. “He doesn’t have a lot of friends! And you two seemed to get along well enough. I thought it was a good idea…”

But Alex’s head was already buried in his arms on the table, groans leaving his lips. “Elizabeth!!” He moaned. “Fuck, what do I do?”

“Well, think fast,” Eliza muttered just before Alex was being squeezed closer to her to make room for Lafayette. The man immediately greeted John and Hercules, grinning happily.

“Oh, well, hello, I’m John Laurens,” John practically purred, shaking Lafayette’s hand. “You’re gorgeous.”

Lafayette chuckled, shaking his head. “Thank you, John Laurens. Your dots are very pretty,” he flirted, winking at John, leaving the younger man open mouthed.

“My freckles?” Lafayette hummed in agreement before turning to Alex, who was glaring holes right through the side of John’s head.

“Hello, _mon petite lion_ , we meet again today,” Lafayette smiled, bringing Alex out of his jealous stupor.

“I-um-yeah…hi,” He mumbled.

Lafayette greeted Eliza before excusing himself to get a drink. Alex downed the rest of his beer, ignoring John cackling. “You bitch!” He exclaimed. “I told you I liked him! Don’t you dare go after him! I call dibbs!!”

John chortled, throwing his head back. “I was just playing, Alex. That man is fine, but not my type. He’s all yours,” he winked.

“Don’t you think he looks a bit like Jefferson?” Hercules asked, tilting his head.

Alex made a choking noise, eyes going wide. “He does not!”

John giggled. “You got so weird around him. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a less eloquent sentence come out of your mouth.”

“You know what, you’re sleeping on the couch tonight,” Alex snapped, pouting.

John gasped. “What? No, you can’t do that. Herc, he can’t do that.” He pouted up at the larger man.

Hercules shrugged, biting his bottom lip to hide his laughter. Just then Lafayette sidled back up to Alex, his warmth radiating. He set a beer in front of Alex and sipped his own glass of wine. When Alex gave him a questioning look, Lafayette shrugged. “You ran out,” he said simply. Alex could’ve sworn he saw a blush on his cheeks.

“Oh, well, thank you,” Alex smiled softly, pulling the glass closer to him to take a sip.

“Who orders red wine at a bar?” John commented, laughing softly.

Lafayette shrugged, taking a sip of the glass and wincing. “This shouldn’t be called red wine. This is disgusting.”

Eliza laughed softly, shooing both Alex and Laf out of the booth to stand up. “C’mon, Laf, I’ll order you something that’s appropriate,” she hummed, taking the man over to the bar.

Alex sat back down and took a large gulp of his beer. He tried to ignore the looks he was getting from across the booth. “He got you a drink,” Hercules wiggled his eyebrows. Alex snorted, hiding his face behind his curtail of hair.

Eliza and Laf returned a little while later, brandishing a round of shots, a beer for John, and two margaritas. Alex got up to left Eliza into the booth and then found himself sandwiched between the two. They all took the shots before dissolving into more meaningless conversation. Lafayette sipped his margarita through a straw, eyes going wide.

“Oh, this is so good! It is cold!” He practically squealed, slurping down the rest of the drink quickly.

“Whoa, slow down there, Frenchie,” John laughed, shaking his head when Lafayette tried to get out of the booth.

Laf pouted, gripping the side of the booth. “I want another one!” he exclaimed.

Alex smiled up at him fondly, biting his bottom lip. “I’ll come with you. Don’t want you falling over,” he mumbled. He placed his hands on Laf’s arms, guiding him to the bar. His muscles flexed under Alex’s hands.

“Hands are cold,” Laf pointed out, but he frowned when Alex removed them from his skin. “No, no, I like touchy!”

Alex chuckled, replacing his hands. Laf ordered another margarita, leaning against the bar. “I don’t drink not wine,” Laf told him, giggling.

“I wonder why,” Alex commented, examining the side of Lafayette’s face in the bar light. “You’re really pretty,” he blurted out, the alcohol lessening his already thin brain-to-mouth filter.

Lafayette smiled softly, looking down. “O-oh, thank you. I…so you are.”

Alex bit his bottom lip to hide his giddy smile. “Um…” he trailed off, becoming acutely aware that his hands were still of Laf’s arms. Lafayette bit his bottom lip, his dark eyes flicking up to meet Alex’s. “John…are you interested in John?” The smaller man asked breathily, licking his lips. Lafayette’s gaze followed Alex’s tongue.

“ _Qu’est-ce pas_?” Lafayette asked softly, biting his bottom lip and meeting Alex’s gaze again.

“Uh…John… _do you think he’s attractive?”_ Alex asked softly, switching to French to make it easier.

Lafayette frowned. “ _I mean…yes. He is pretty, but not my type.”_

Alex had to convince his face to stay stoic, like that news wasn’t the best thing he’s heard in years. Lafayette got his drink and they headed back to the booth. He drank three margaritas very quickly, his speech starting to get even more jumbled and even his French starting to be nearly not understandable. 

“ _Danser,_ I want to dance _, danse avec moi, mon petite lion!”_ Lafayette tugged on Alex’s arm, his full bottom lip pouting out.

Alex flustered, biting at his lips. “This isn’t a club, Laf, there’s no music. Or anyone else dancing.”

“But…but…” Laf pouted. “ _We can be the first! Come.”_ Lafayette grabbed Alex, heaving him out of the booth. He started dancing along to the distant pop song that was playing over the speakers, lots of twirling and finger pointing and absolutely no rhythm.

Alex chuckled, face heating up. “ _Come on, weirdo,”_ he mumbled in French, taking Laf’s hands. _“I’ll teach you. I learned a few things in the Caribbean.”_ He set them up so they were chest to chest, and he tried to ignore the warmth radiating off of Laf’s chest.

"Yesss, Alex," John drawled out drunkenly. "Show Frenchie what those Latin hips do!"

Alex rolled his eyes, face going red in embarrassment. “ _D’accord, step forward with your left foot…good,”_ Alex guided softly, stepping back to make room for Laf’s clumsy feet. “ _Now bring your right foot together, good, good, now quickly move your feet, like this,”_ Alex explained, bouncing from his right foot to his left foot to his right again. “ _And start it all over, come on. Start with your right foot this time. Add in hips movements.”_

_“Beau,”_ Laf mumbled, eyes trained on Alex’s face. He tried to shift his hips, his movements boxy and uncoordinated.

Alex blushed, biting his bottom lip. “ _Non, non, let me show you,”_ he hesitated before setting his hands on Laf’s hips, guiding them in smooth movements. “ _Sexy…like you’re having sex_ ,” he mumbled, face bright red. He rolled his hips, continuing the movements in his feet and guiding Laf’s hips. They started to speed up, matching the beat of the soft music playing.

“I…I like this,” Lafayette mumbled, his voice low in Alex’s ear. “This is salsa?”

Alex hummed. “ _Not quite. We called it_ “tipo de serpiente venenosa”… _I think it’s mamba in English.”_ He glanced up, meeting Laf’s dark eyes. The man nodded, biting his bottom lip. He mumbled something in French, too quick and low for Alex to make out.

_“Are you and John together_?” He asked softly, voice low.

Alex scoffed, shaking his head. “ _No, we tried, but it didn’t work out. We’re just roommates,”_ he assured Lafayette. Laf nodded to himself.

“Y’all can stop fucking now! We can all see he’s yours,” John called out from the booth, laughing loudly. Alex groaned, dropping his forehead onto Laf’s shoulder.

Lafayette rolled his eyes, “Just because you don’t understand the beauty of mamba, doesn’t mean no one else does, peasant,” he scoffed good-naturedly, wrapping his arms around Alex’s waist. Alex felt himself nuzzle closer to Laf’s chest, his warmth and the safety that his arms provided putting him at ease. His arms were gone just as soon as they were there, leaving a ghost of a touch.

They sat back down in the booth begrudgingly, Alex trying to hide his pout. “I probably should be going,” Laf murmured as he checked his phone. Alex caught his screensaver – a picture of the Eiffel Tower, a much younger Lafayette bundled in winter clothes hugging an older woman in front of it. “ _Merci,_ I had a lovely evening,” he thanked Eliza. He met Alex’s gaze for a few moments, his eyes dark and sparkling in the dim light.

“Alex should walk you home,” Eliza piped up, sipping her margarita. “Girl code – never leave your drunk friend alone.”

Alex glared at Eliza, feeling his ears heat up. “We’re not girls – and he can take care of himself.”

Lafayette nodded his agreement. “ _Oui,_ _je suis_ strong _et_ independent _et_ …” he trailed off as he tried to get out of the booth, tripping over his own feet and almost falling flat on his face.

Eliza raised her eyebrows at Alex, pursing her lips. Alex sighed, sliding out of the booth and grabbing his coat. “I’ll walk you home, princess,” he grumbled.

The night air did wonders for Alex’s head, clearing it enough to become aware of how close Lafayette’s body was to his as they walked. Their hands briefly touched every few steps. Alex became acutely aware that his head only went to Lafayette’s shoulder and he felt warm and fuzzy inside.

Lafayette babbled on about his day and France and everything under the sun, his speech fluctuating between French and English. Alex smiled fondly up at him, following his directions to an upscale apartment building. He looked up at the tall silver building in awe, mouth wide open.

“Would you like to come up? Its late and you could call an Uber, or…” Lafayette trailed off, turning to face Alex.

Alex parted his lips. “I…” he met Laf’s hopeful eyes, his long lashes fluttering. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  
Lafayette frowned, biting his bottom lip to hide his disappointment. _“Oui,_ yeah…”

Alex nodded, eyes scanning Laf’s face. He had half a mind to push the man against the wall, connect their lips and kiss him until he could not breathe. But Laf was drunk. Alex was slightly drunk. He couldn’t take advantage like that. And if he went up to Laf’s apartment, there would be nothing stopping him from losing all his inhibitions and snogging the other man for hours.

“Goodnight,” Alex whispered, his breath mingling with Laf’s. He smelled like lemonade, liquor and barbicide.

“ _Bonsoir_ ,” Lafayette murmured, lips forming around the words. He leaned forward slightly, pressing his lips to Alex’s cheek in a quick kiss. “ _Mon héros.”_

Alex watched as Laf walked inside, swiveling around the revolving door and disappearing into the building. He pressed his fingers to the warm spot on his cheek, smiling, and he practically skipped back to his apartment.


	4. Chapter 4

Not 10 days later, Alex found himself once again on the doorstep of _Ongles Par Lafayette_. He was going to finally ask Lafayette out. He spent days pacing his apartment, his brain practically smoking with all the different scenarios it came up with. He could ask him to dinner, but no dinner was too suggestive. What about brunch? No, brunch is too innocent. Lunch? Lafayette probably worked during the lunch hour. A movie? No, he would much rather have a conversation as opposed to sitting in a dark theatre for two hours. Ice skating? Last time Alex went ice skating, he fell and broke his wrist.

But finally – he came up with the perfect plan. An art museum! Laf is classy and gorgeous and he seems like the type to wander around a pretentious museum sipping champagne and commenting on the pointillism. John told him it was a terrible idea, but it is all Alex got.

Of course, the other man has to say yes first.

His mind went blank when he opened the door. Lafayette was dancing around the shop, arranging the nail polish and humming along passionately to the classical music. His back was to Alex, hips swaying to the music and arms straining to reach the top shelf.

Alex’s eyes just about felt out of his head.

“Um…” he trailed off, trying to get the other man’s attention. Lafayette continued his impassioned humming, head lolling from side to side. Alex absolutely refused to look at his body, his tight waist, his muscular back, his ass. He looked anywhere but – the floor tiles becoming suddenly very interesting. “Laf?”

Lafayette startled, spinning around with his mouth still agape. “ _Quoi? Oh – Alexandre! Bonjour,”_ he carried out, gliding over to Alex as if he wasn’t just caught doing something that would have anyone else melt in an embarrassed puddle. It was oddly charming (not unlike everything that Lafayette does). “I was thinking about you earlier!”

Alex’s eyebrows shot up. “Um…you were, really?” He squeaked, heartbeat speeding up.

“ _Oui, oui_ , I got a shipment of more colors today and there’s this pink that would look _tres magnifique pour toi_!” Lafayette flitted around, retrieving a little bottle of baby pink nail polish from behind the check-in desk.

“Oh, no, actually – I just wanted to – “Alex bit his bottom lip, meeting Lafayette’s bright gaze. Laf paused, blinking at him with those big doe eyes and Alex felt his heart stop. “S-sure.”

Lafayette smiled brightly and Alex wanted to keep that smile on his face no matter what. He followed Lafayette to one of the stations, trying to look respectfully at the taller man’s body. Once they were seated, Laf started taking off the half scraped off older nail polish from Alex’s nails. “This is no good. You should wear a rubber band,” he hummed.

Alex tilted his head. “What?”

“You know, wear a band around your wrist?” Lafayette elaborated. “Flick yourself every time you scratch at nails. It will…redo your brain and you will think pain whenever you scratch your nails.”

“I’ve never heard of that.”

Lafayette shrugged. “ _Ma mere_ did it to me when I would bite my nails. I stopped biting my nails.”

Alex stared down at Lafayette’s hands – his nails were well manicured, but conservatively done. His fingers were strong but thin, and as he rubbed the cotton pad on Alex’s nails, the veins on the back of his hands popped out of his skin. Alex swallowed, quickly diverting his gaze.

“When will you let me give you acrylics?” Lafayette wondered, smirking up at Alex.

A bubble of laughter escaped Alex’s throat. “Me letting you do this is a rarity. I could never…I need to type and be…normal. I applaud those who can live with those, but I am not one.” Lafayette laughed softly, moving on to buff Alex’s nails. He did not say anything more. Alex frowned, his eyebrows furrowing as his eyes scanned Laf’s face. The man was usually bubbly, always talking and very happy, but he was more subdued than Alex had ever seen. The silence made him uncomfortable. “Are you okay?”

Lafayette’s eyes snapped up to Alex’s, slightly startled. “ _Oui, oui_ ,” he nodded. “My apologies, um, I am tired,” he said bashfully, eyes averting Alex’s gaze.

Alex chuckled. “I understand, trust me.” After a few beats of silence, he continued. “Are you the only one who works here?”

“ _Non,”_ Laf shook his head. “I own it, but, Elizabeth’s sister, Margaret, uh, no, Peggy, works here sometimes. My best, best friend, Adrienne, helps me out when she’s in town, but she lives in France, and only visits three or, ah, four times a year.”

“It must be a lot of work,” Alex commented, looking around the pristine shop. “And I thought law school was hard.”

Lafayette hummed, starting to push back Alex’s cuticles. “You went to law school?”

Alex nodded, feeling himself start to relax. Lafayette was just a person (an insanely attractively gorgeous person with whom Alex wanted to do all sorts of things) and they could talk about normal things, like law school. Alex liked talking about his time at Columbia. He told Lafayette all about the sleepless nights, about how John had to force him to eat and sleep by hiding his computer or throwing his books up on the roof of their apartment complex. Lafayette laughed along with his jokes, moving through the motions of doing his nails. The more Alex talked, the more he relaxed. He could do this; he was good at this. The more reactions he got out of Lafayette, the more he talked and the more he was spurred on. He liked getting a reaction from people, and the marquis did not disappoint.

Before he knew it, Lafayette was sweeping him away and up to the front desk, his nails a light pink that honestly did look really good. “No charge,” Lafayette hummed, his full lips curving up in a smile. “How you say? Friends and family discount?”

Alex bit his bottom lip. “So which are we? Friends or family?” He asked playfully.

Lafayette shrugged, setting his elbows on the counter and leaning forward. “That’s for you to decide, _mon Coeur.”_

“Well, I have to pay you - it’s principle,” Alex purred, allowing some of his accent to slip into his words.

Laf raised his eyebrow, his lips quirking. “How about a, uh, quid pro quo?” He murmured, voice deepening slightly and lips caressing each word.

“Do you have a proposal?” Alex leaned forward slightly, running his thumb over his lower lip. Shameless flirting – Alex knew how to do that. And now that Lafayette was on board, there was nothing holding him back.

Lafayette hummed, his dark eyes searching the room before pinning onto Alex. He made a clicking noise with his tongue before searching his counter for a piece of paper and a pen. Once he found what he was looking for, he scribbled down some numbers and letters. “Dinner? Tonight? I will be ready at 7. You can pick me up at this address.” He slid the piece of paper over to Alex and tapped it once with his finger.

Alex’s eyebrows shot up. He didn’t know it would that easy. He snatched the paper from the counter, grinning. The little post-it had the fleur de lie on each corner, vines of roses forming a border. It smelled of jasmine. “I will see you then!” Alex enthused, barely containing his excitement as he stumbled out of the shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and up next:::: the date


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is a long one yall buckle up -- it's date time (also a lil smut)

“Alex!” John hollered. “You’re gonna be late!”

Alex sighed, glancing at himself in the mirror one more time. He was wearing a pair of John’s black skinny jeans, since apparently none of his clothes were date worthy. According to both Hercules and John. His baggy Goodwill jeans and big t-shirts were not going to cut it. He wore a gray t-shirt that actually fit him, which was a wonder considering it belong to John. He left his hair down, freshly washed. He even trimmed his facial hair. And he looked damn good.

He finally left the bathroom to see John spread out on his bed. The man was on his back, throwing up a stress ball and catching it rhythmically.

“Hey, that’s mine,” Alex reached out, snatching the squishy ball before it could fall into John’s grasp again.

John chuckled, sitting up. “For a ‘stress ball’, it doesn’t do you much good,” he snarked, using air quotes around ‘stress ball’. “You look good, goddamn.” He swatted at Alex’s ass when the smaller man leaned down to grab his ratty Converse. “Frenchie is gonna go nuts when he sees you.”

Alex rolled his eyes, sitting next to John on the bed to pull on his socks and shoes. “Stop calling him Frenchie. Would you like someone calling you Southie?”

John hummed, purring seductively, “You can call me whatever you want, babygirl.”

Alex huffed out a laugh. “I regret everything.”

“You didn’t regret it when I—”

“Okay! I’m leaving!” Alex cut him off, gathering his wallet and keys. “Where’s my…?” he trailed off upon seeing John holding his phone. He quickly snatched the phone from John’s grasp and rolled his eyes. “Gremlin.” And with that, he sashayed from the apartment.

He bounded down the stairs nervously. Technically, with his job, he could afford a much nicer place than an apartment that he shares with two other guys in Harlem. But it held sentimental value. The second story landing was where Alex held John as he cried when his mother died. The hole in the wall on the third story staircase was from Hercules’s elbow when they were roughhousing. The railing on the first floor was different than the others because Alex had taken it down with him when he fell down the stairs while reading. The three of them had shared the apartment since senior year in undergrad and he was not about to give up all those memories.

He unraveled the small piece of paper that held Laf’s address and hailed a cab. He handed the paper to the driver and sat back, nervously wringing his hands. It was okay, he had been on first dates before, he could survive. He sighed, leaning his head back against the seat. The cabbie took him to the upper east side and, to his surprise, pulled up in front of the most gorgeous luxury building Alex had ever seen.

Not that Alex doubted Laf’s ability at running a salon, but this was just…so much. He paid the cabbie in awe and retrieved the piece of paper. He wandered through the lobby in awe, gazing at the high ceilings and windows. There was a piano over by the full bar and restaurant. Alex felt extremely underdressed just by this man’s home.

“Can I help you, sir?” A pretty blonde called out. She was standing behind a huge desk, dressed in a sleek black suit with her hair pulled back in a tight bun. Her makeup was done to perfection. She probably could sense that Alex did not belong there.

“Um, yeah, I’m here to see my f-friend,” Alex straightened his back, walking up to her and handing her the piece of paper with the address. “Lafayette?” His mind mildly told him that he should probably recite Laf’s full name, but he could not recall it even if he tried.

The pretty blonde, Emily (if her nametag was anything to go by), nodded with a polite smile. “Of course, let me just call up there and get authorization. What’s your name?” She asked as she dialed a few numbers on the company phone.

“Alexander Hamilton,” Alex recited quickly, waiting patiently as she nodded.

“Hi, yes,” Emily grinned when someone on the other line picked up. “An Alexander Hamilton is here for you.” Alex took that time to glance around the lobby. It was huge, marbles pillars leading down the corridor. The floors were shiny enough for Alex to see his own reflection in, black and white marble. A man in a tuxedo was playing the baby grand piano softly, the music of Cole Porter floating through the air. Women in pencil skirts with impeccable hair lingered by the bar holding glasses of white wine. Men with trimmed hair in suits sipped bourbon. Alex shrunk.

After a few pauses, Emily thanked whoever had answered the phone and hung up. “Alrighty, you can head right on up. Use the elevator furthest from the front.” She swept her arm out to the collection of elevators along the wall.

Alex nodded shakily and did as requested, pressing the button for the last elevator. It quickly opened and he was swallowed inside. He pressed his back against the wall of the elevator, sighing when it began to move. The soft music bounced around the small space. A mirror composed as the ceiling and carpet that probably cost more than Alex’s whole outfit lined the floor. He closed his eyes, counting to ten and down again to calm his nerves. It was just a date. He could do this. The trembling in his fingers and the flushed heat in his veins said otherwise. The elevator stopped.

With a ding, the doors opened right into the living room of what could only be described as a penthouse and there stood Lafayette, a light smile on his lips. “Bonjour,” he murmured, voice loud and cheery.

Alex stared at him, mouth popping open. He wore fitted maroon trousers, tight around his waist and ankles. His ankles were left exposed and low rise, leather black shoes were on his feet, obviously expensive. He wore a tight black V-neck tucked into the trousers, pulled out a bit to billow out. His biceps stretched the fabric of the arms. A necklace hung from his neck, a crest on the delicate gold chain. His full lips were painted crimson, his eyes lined and smoky. A highlight glittered on the high points of his cheeks. His hair was pulled back in its signature poof.

Alex’s mouth went completely dry.

“Is-is this okay? I mean, um, appropriate. I didn’t know where we were going, so…” Lafayette trailed off, rolling his lips together.

“Yes!” Alex called out, broken out of his stupor. “I mean, yes, of course, no…” he took a deep breath. “You look amazing.”

Lafayette blushed, looking down bashfully. “ _Merci_. You look very handsome as well,” he reached out quietly, tucking a piece of hair behind Alex’s ear. He smelled of expensive cologne, sweet and spicy.

“O-oh,” Alex flushed, eyes caught of Lafayette’s face. He fiddled with the ends of a lock of hair. “I only leave it down for, um, for special occasions.”

Laf smiled, the skin by his eyes crinkling. He paused. “Where are we going?” he asked, tilting his head.

Alex glanced around the apartment – penthouse – mansion and suddenly felt very out of place and very small. He didn’t belong in a place like this, with its chrome amenities and walls of windows looking out on the city. “I…I was gonna take you to this hole-in-the-wall ramen place I know, but—”

“That sounds _parfaite_!” Lafayette grinned, clapping his hands together. His eyes lit up.

“Oh, you don’t have to, it’s okay. We can go somewhere else,” Alex tried, glancing around the apartment again.

It was homey, obviously lived in. There were lots of fuzzy blankets on the couch, a Macbook Pro on the footstool. There were many pictures hung on the walls and set up on tables, as well as tasteful art. The apartment had an open floor plan, with a large leather sectional couch right in front. It faced an electric fireplace with a huge television hung over it. There were multiple vases of flowers on every flat surface, including the mahogany dining room table. A few steps lead up to a platform where a baby grand piano sat in front of a wall of windows, looking out over the city. The kitchen was to the right, open and gorgeous. All marble countertops, black cabinets and state of the art appliances. A spiral staircase led up to the second floor of the penthouse, which Alex did not even know existed.

Lafayette caught his gaze. “Just because I live extravagantly doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate a good bowl of ramen,” he mumbled.

Alex blinked and coughed awkwardly into his elbow. “I know, just…maybe I should get into the nail business, damn,” he forced a laugh.

“ _Non, non,”_ Lafayette chuckled, shaking his head. “The salon does well, _oui_ , but, uh, this all comes from my inheritance.”

“Your _inheritance_?” Alex echoed, looking around with wide eyes. “Goddamn, your parents must love you.”

“ _Oui, oui,_ they did,” Lafayette said plainly.

“Oh, fuck,” Alex’s eyes widened, and his hands flew to his mouth. He vaguely remembered Lafayette telling him that his parents died when he was young. “I completely forgot! I’m so sorry!”

Lafayette hummed, leading Alex into the elevator with a hand on the small of his back. Alex felt warm inside. “It is okay. You were not wrong. I just pray that you don’t think of me any differently because of…the way I live.”

“Oh, never,” Alex chuckled as Lafayette pressed the button for the ground floor and the elevator doors closed. “I might make you pay for desert though.”

Lafayette gasped. “You wouldn’t dare,” he placed his hand dramatically on his chest. “Is that how you treat a lady?”

Alex chuckled. “I don’t have the best track record with ladies, so don’t call me on it.”

“ _Qu’est-ce passe?”_ Lafayette tilted his head.

“That’s a story for a second date,” Alex shook his head, looking up at Laf when the elevator dinged and the doors opened. They walked out to the lobby side by side.

Lafayette hummed. “A second date? Should we not finish the first?” He teased.

Alex nodded, feeling emboldened by the flirtations enough that he surged forward and grabbed Lafayette’s hand. He twined their fingers together, Lafayette’s palm warm and soft. This close, Alex could smell his cologne. “You owe me desert, you French aristocrat.”

“I’m not aristocrat. That is so revolutionary era,” he rolled his eyes.

“I think you’d look cute in a cravat,” Alex teased, chuckling at Lafayette’s disgusted expression.

“ _Non, non,_ too fussy. Too many layers. I love a good coat, but blue does not do good for me. I know my colors,” Lafayette stuck his nose up. They started walking down the street, Alex leading them.

Alex chuckled, indulging him. “What is your color?”

“ _Rouge, non_?” Laf smirked, turning his crimson smile onto Alex. The shorter man flicked his gaze from Laf’s dark eyes to his lips and suddenly got the urge to surge forward and kiss him. His lips were shiny, not glossy, not matte, but perfect and life-like.

Alex sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and nodded. “Well, you got me there.”

They made idle small talk throughout the journey. Alex lead him down to the subway station and they rode to 36th street. They sat close, thighs bumping together whenever the subway train shuttered. Lafayette told Alex all about his day, rambling about an older lady who comes in once a week for a manicure and spills her entire life story as if Laf was her therapist. She is apparently having an affair on the side of her husband of 13 years. It is a younger man.

Alex hummed, leaning his head back against the back of the subway seat. He guided Laf out of the train car when they got to the stop. Lafayette grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together in a way that had sparks shooting up Alex’s arm.

They emerged from underground to the heat of early summer. The street was lined with random shops – an adult shop on top of a pet store, a NYC memorabilia store, and other random shops squeezed in between tenement buildings. Construction was covering the front part of a Starbucks. Guys sold their artwork on the street. People bustled back and forth on the street, holding cellphones to their ears and holding the hands of loved ones.

Alex lead Lafayette to a little ramen shop, having to duck under the construction site and climb some stairs up over the Starbucks. Lafayette looked around curiously, a pleasant smile on his face. “It smells so good,” he commented. Alex relaxed.

The restaurant was quaint, booths lining both sides and a few little tables set up in middle. A door in the back lead to the kitchen. Alex watched as Lafayette examined the menu. “Do you have, uh, recommendation?” Laf asked, glancing up at him.

Alex bit his bottom lip. “Well, the tonkutso is always amazing – that’s pork ramen – wait, do you eat meat?”

Lafayette shook his head. “I don’t eat red meat, but, uh, fish is okay.”

“Well then, they have a great seafood ramen,” Alex said breezily. This was his element – he could ramble on about anything forever. “They also have a trio tartare, that’s all fish I believe. It’s, like, sushi though so I’ve never tried it because sushi is bougie and gross. That’s more up John’s alley.”

“Bougie?” Lafayette echoed in confusion.

Alex paused. “I have no idea what it means. Like, fancy.” When Lafayette nodded, Alex continued. “They also have vegetable ramen, which has mushrooms and tofu and stuff. And they have a vegetable tempura, which is lots of vegetables like green beans and stuff fried.”

Lafayette frowned. “Why would you fry vegetables? Vegetables are healthy and frying them make it unhealthy.”

“It makes them taste bearable,” Alex chuckled.

“But veggies are good for you,” Laf insisted, his eyes boring holes into Alex.

Alex snorted. “That doesn’t mean they taste good,” he snarked.

Right then, they were interrupted by the waitress, a slight Japanese woman. “Hello!” she chirped. “What can I get for you gentlemen?”

“Can I have the spicy tonkutso shoyu?” Alex asked politely, smiling up at her. She nodded and wrote down his order.

“Hello,” Lafayette flashed her a grin, leaning back in his seat with a breezy kind of confidence. “I will have the seafood ramen, and we will have the tempura vegetable,” he said with a pointed look at Alex, who blanched. “Do you have wine?”

The waitress shook her head. “We have saki, but I’ll need to see your I.D.s.”

Lafayette fished his wallet out of his pocket and showed her his I.D. Alex frowned at him, wondering how old he really was. He looked like he could be as young as 21, but his mannerisms and easy confidence gave off the aura of someone in their 30s. The waitress left shortly after they finished ordering.

“Fried veggies are better than no veggies, so if you eat them, it is a win,” Laf hummed, his dark eyes pinning on Alex. It made the smaller mans veins sing. He never was attracted to a man who overcompensated, who took control and was so openly domineering, because it usually meant that they were just showing off. But the way that Lafayette so easily took control and the easy way he dominated; it gave Alex comfort. He did not have to make any decisions for once and his brain was quiet. He found that he enjoyed it.

“How old are you?” Alex asked suddenly, blinking.

Lafayette smirked. “ _Vingt-cinq, pourquoi?”_

Alex could not help himself – a laugh bubbled passed his lips. “Oh my God, I’m older than you!” At Lafayette’s pout, Alex sobered, still giggling to himself. “I’m 28. But it’s okay, I’ll still let you top,” he winked.

Lafayette smirked, not at all fazed by his crudeness. “ _Oh, babygirl, je vais au top si tu me "laisse" ou non_ ,” he purred.

Alex went his ears heat up. He thought he had finally been able to fluster the man, but it backfired big time. He cleared his throat. “O-oh, well…”

Lafayette continued talking as if Alex were not melting into a red, hot pile of hormones in the booth across from him. “ _Where are you from? I cannot quite pin your accent,”_ Laf asked, this time in French. He thanked the waitress quietly when she brought his little cup of saki.

“Uh, well,” Alex cleared his throat to try to quell his nerves and his libido. “Nevis – it’s a little island in the Caribbean. But I’ve lived in New York for over ten years, so I’m sure I have a little Brooklyn in my accent.”

Lafayette chuckled, nodding. “ _Oui,_ I can hear that _. Why did you move to America_?” he asked kindly.

Alex swallowed, fiddling with his napkin. “My mom died. I mean, my family situation is sticky. My mom and my dad weren’t married, but she had two sons with him, me and my brother, James. She had run away from an abusive marriage, and when I was 7, her husband found her and took her and me away from my dad, but James stayed with him. Her husband got a divorce and I was illegitimated in the eye of the law, since my mom wasn’t married to my dad. My mom died when I was 11, from yellow fever, which we both got, but, I survived, obviously,” he was well aware that he was rambling at this point, but the kind look in Lafayette’s dark eyes spurred him to continue. “I had to move in with my cousin. That’s when the hurricane hit – it completely destroyed the entire island. We lost absolutely everything, and my cousin committed suicide. I had been regularly writing letters to my father, who had moved back to Scotland at this point, and someone got ahold of the letter I wrote to him about the hurricane. They published it in the local paper and I guess the people liked it enough that they thought I should go to America for school. They were under the impression that I was going to go to medical school, which was the goal, until I got here and realized that medicine isn’t for me. I went to law school instead. Full scholarship in undergrad and grad school.”

Lafayette watched him closely, obviously listening and hanging on every word Alex said. “That is impressive, _mon petite lion_.”

Alex shrugged. “I took a break in between grad school and undergrad to join the army. That’s actually where I met Governor Washington – he was my battalion leader.”

At this, Lafayette tilted his head in wonder. “You are a veteran? That is amazing.”

Alex hummed, shifting uncomfortably. He did not really like talking about his time in the military – too many bad memories. “Why’d you start running a nail salon?” he asked to deter.

Lafayette noticed his deflection but did not mention it. He launched into a story about growing at in a high-class French family who threw balls every month for no apparent reason. He used to watch his mother get her makeup and hair done and eventually, she put some on him too when he asked. He did his mom’s nails all the time and found it soothing, mind-numbing work. When he moved to America, it seemed to fit.

Halfway through his story, the waitress brought their food over. They ate in relative quiet, except for when Laf pushed Alex to eat more vegetables. When he blatantly refused, just to test Lafayette and see what he would do, Laf started had feeding him. He even gave him spoonsful of his own ramen. By the time dinner was over, Alex had stars in his eyes. He didn’t even have to admit how head-over-heels he was for the Frenchman.

Lafayette talked and gestured to effortlessly, with the confidence of someone who knew who they were and were comfortable in their own skin. A small part of Alex was jealous, but that was overrun by how smitten he was. Alex was always too something – too sickly to play with the boys on the island, too bookish to pursue any of the women, too passionate to sit still in class, too rambunctious to join sports, too runty for the army, too opinionated for law school, too loud to work in the government.

But Lafayette made him feel normal. He took every one of Alex’s quirks in stride. He let the smaller man ramble until he was out of breath, even if he was rambling nonsense about politics and policies that Laf did not understand. He asked questions to spur him on more. He did not mention when Alex does not use a straw to drink his water, though countless of other people have. He did not even flinch when Alex got passionate and his voice raised a little too much. He sat there calmly, watching Alex in a way that did not make him feel scrutinized but made him feel heard. And for a small, opinionated runt who had to holler just to be heard, it was heaven.

They walked out of the restaurant with Laf’s hand on the small of his back, warming him from the inside out. Night had fallen in the city and the lights twinkled around them, even the busy street seemed to calm. Alex leaned into Lafayette’s side during the subway ride, tucking his face in Laf’s neck and breathing in his expensive cologne. It smelled like lavender and citrus, with a deeper, musky undertone. The Secretary for the Treasury of New York had never felt so at ease.

He did not want the night to end, so he followed Lafayette into the outlandish lobby of his building, perhaps lingering too long. He was desperate for more touch, more warmth, more something.

Lafayette turned to face him and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to Alex’s knuckles. “Want to…come upstairs?” Lafayette asked slowly, his lips caressing each word. He slipped in a purr, a clear indication of what he wanted.

Alex could not nod his head fast enough. Laf grinned woofishly and grabbed his hand, only to drag him to the elevator. He turned his key in the penthouse lock and pressed the button. As soon as the door was closed, Lafayette was on him, lips hot. Alex’s back slammed against the wall of the elevator, the metal railing digging into his skin. Laf’s hands were everywhere, his sides, his hips, his arms, his back, his hair. It was intoxicating, the taste of saki and lipstick. Alex kissed him back equally as hungrily, exploring the other man’s body. He ran his hands up Laf’s toned chest to grab his collar and pull him impossibly closer. With a shift of his hips, he felt the taller man’s arousal and it made an animalistic whine leave his lips.

“God, you’re perfect,” Alex breathed out, head thrown back while Lafayette’s lips made a hot trail down his throat. He tangled his hands in the poof of Laf’s hair. The door opened with a ding and they stumbled backwards in the living room. The couple were a mess of limbs, unwilling to part their lips for even a second, but they needed to see where they were going. Lafayette was more composed than Alex, so he was the one to pull them to the couch. Alex followed, almost drunkenly. He stumbled over his feet and wound up on Laf’s lap, straddling his hips and kissing the taller man hungrily.

“ _I have waited a long for this, mon petite lion,”_ Lafayette murmured in French. Alex whined, dragging his lips down Lafayette’s warm throat, nipping at his skin. Lafayette’s hands tugged on his hair before rubbing his palms down Alex’s back and ass. He teased the edge of the t-shirt he wore. “ _Can I take this off, babygirl?”_

Alex paused, his brain to mouth filter shortening with all the stimulation. He had he translate all the French into Spanish into English and then send it to his mouth, and it all became very hard when Lafayette was dragging his fingers along the small of Alex’s back. He nodded and Lafayette took his shirt off, then he set to work on removing his own.

Alex groaned just looking at Laf’s body, rubbing his hands over his muscular chest and abs. “Fuck,” he breathed out, kissing and biting love-bites across his dark skin. “I really wanna suck your dick.”

“ _What’s stopping you?”_ Lafayette breathed out, tugging on Alex’s hair in a way that made him moan. Alex made quick work of undoing Laf’s trousers and shucking them down his thighs. He mouthed along the expanse of Laf’s dick where it strained against the fabric of his boxers. At Laf’s impatient noises, Alex took pity on him and pulled down his boxers.

“ _Gorgeous_ ,” Alex mumbled in Spanish, licking a long stripe along his shaft. He took the man down quickly, to appease the impatiently squirming man above him. Lafayette mumbled to himself in French, his arm flung over his eyes. He wound his hand in Alex’s long hair, pushing him down until he choked. Alex moaned around his dick, tears streaming down his cheeks. He pulled out all his tricks, wanting nothing more than please the dark man above him. He fluttered his tongue, bobbed his head, moaned and blinked up through his teary lashes. He pressed the heel of his palm to his own erection to get some relief.

“I-I’m close,” Lafayette murmured in English through his study stream of French curses. Alex practically preened, licking up every drop that Laf gave him. Lafayette groaned, back arching off the couch and coming down Alex’s throat in hot spurts. Alex moaned, choking as he came from his hand and sucking cock alone.

He pulled away with a messy pop, breathing rapidly. He coughed a few times before wiping his eyes. He smiled hazily up at Lafayette when the other man helped him up and settled him on his lap. He curled into Laf’s chest, listening to his ragged breathing. He felt a sense of pride knowing that he took apart this elegant man, who normally had it together all the time.

“ _Do you need help_?” Lafayette asked in sleepy French, hiding his face in Alex’s neck to nip at his skin.

Alex paused before he processed what Laf was asking. He blushed deeply and shook. “No, I…I’m good.”

Lafayette groaned when he saw the wet patch on the front of Alex’s pants. “ _Belle salope, mon dieu,”_ he cursed, biting at Alex’s neck. “Let us clean up,” he patted Alex’s bum and effortlessly lifted him off his lap. Alex followed after him, lazy smile on his face, his veins singing with content.


End file.
